Restoration and Destruction
by Elizabeth Fayes
Summary: Those who have helped Aelin free Adarlan are finally looking forward to being bonded with her. However, the last task seems to be gaining approval from a certain hawk bent on keeping her to himself. [Post Heir of Fire. AU]
1. Approval

**A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own the _Throne of Glass _Series. However, I do own a copy of the books.**

**Chapter 1: Approval**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Dorian's POV

He rubbed his neck, his entire body aching from the magical workout he had yesterday. Aelin had taught him how to keep multiple shields going at once with his magic, throwing whorls of fire mercilessly at him. He already knew how to summon _a _shield, but having the ability to summon several easily was a challenge.

It was even more especially difficult when the same hawk would swoop from the hovers of the trees and stare at him for hoursif analyzing his every move-he even swore that it was smirking at him.

It was most likely his mind playing tricks on him due to his failure. No bird would have the audacity to, gods above, watch a person play with magic.

Dorian didn't even know if he was human; he only knew that he was someone. But he wasn't exactly normal either with his ice powers. How would his kingdom exact to the years of the ban on magic to the Crown Prince having magic?

Chaol was silently walking beside him, one hand tucked in his front pocket, the other hand resting on the hilt of his blade. Chaol was always the one to resent anything out of the ordinary, especially change, even if was for the good-which is why he now had seemed to resent the friendship with Dorian, who had ice powers. Chaol had been spending most of his time training Ren, something Dorian didn't entirely mind. Ren was too pugnacious for his own good and caused people to have too many headaches, a skill that could definitely pass as a magic.

"Who do you think trained Aelin while she away?" Dorian asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence as they both meandered through the yard. He often enjoyed the peaceful walks with Chaol, even if most of the time they were silent and contemplating on some other subject at hand.

Aelin was a ruthless trainer, contrary to her ruthlessness before she had left-this said a lot considering she was Adarlan's most notorious assassin. Dorian knew without a doubt that she had changed to the point where she was someone else. He had only wished that he could have been by her side to preserve the ounce of friendship that had to whatever had happened.

But if hadn't stayed in Adarlan, he wouldn't have met Sorscha. But if hadn't met Sorscha, who else would have developed the tonics and stolen his heart? Yet if he had left Adarlan, he would have saved himself the heartbreak from her death wrecked upon his father.

It wasn't that he and Aelin weren't friends-no. He still attempted to teach her billboards, a skill she somehow wasn't gifted with out of all her extreme talents. During her _victory_ in killing his father-something he hadn't entirely minded (he hadn't even shed a tear, to his surprise), she had to fight Dorian face to face.

Despite the collar on his throat that controlled his actions, he could see the pain in her eyes as she slashed her blade towards him. Her option boiled down to killing him-she couldn't use her magic, and beheading was the only option.

Then, in a split second, the magic towers were destroyed. By who was still a mystery to him. A group of five animals had savagely destroyed each tower, along with the help of the remaining Terrasen army and some demi-Fae from Mistward.

Swiftly, Aelin burned his collar, and they had embraced. But Dorian still knew that she was wary of him from their encounters that were forced upon his father. He was the enemy, and he had killed some innocent people. In some ways, Dorian was also changed. He could no longer view himself as the innocent.

"Obviously someone who had magic," Chaol replied evenly, "Though I still think it's possible that Celaena could have learned to control her magic out of the force of sheer will."

"It's Aelin," a different male voice said.

Both heads snapped towards the woods where The Fae was standing. No one apparently knew his actual name, or apparently didn't want to speak it. Multiple tattoos decorated his entire body, an action Dorian found repulsive, and a huge one stretched across his entire face. He was sturdy, large, and as infuriating as it was for Dorian to admit, good-looking.

Aelin, after overthrowing his father (she'd consumed him with her flames till a pile of ashes sat at the bottom of the throne) and ensuring some form of peace in Adarlan, had literally flown into The Fae's room to do who knows what. They obviously had a connection, and it made Dorian envious. That male was usually beside Aelin, and if he wasn't, there was this bird (who was one of the five animals that destroyed the towers) that always got on his nerves.

"It refers to the same person." Chaol said tightly, his hand tightening on the blade. Dorian knew Chaol would lose a fight to a full Fae, so he froze his friend's hand. He didn't care if Chaol thought of him worse now-peace was what drove Dorian nowadays.

Dorian also knew Chaol would always call Aelin her previous name. Celaena was the person they knew and were connected with-Aelin wasn't. She was a stranger and a force not to be reckoned with.

The Fae's eyes narrowed. "Is it really the same person?"

Chaol opened his mouth, but didn't have time to speak as The Fae stalked away back into the woods, where there was a flash of light.

Dorian shrugged his shoulders at Chaol. At least Aelin, or Celaena, or whatever name she preferred to be called sucked at billboards still. There was one connection.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Chaol's POV

"He might as well rule the world with that ego of his," Ren says, appearing from the opposite direction, his arms crossed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dorian roll his eyes. "He's a guy with his own personality who's probably done twice the accomplishments we've ever achieved. He has a life, and his own ideals, and we'll respect that."

Chaol had observed that ever since Dorian's collar was destroyed, he had been acting like the ultimate Buddhist monk. "_You_'ll respect that; I won't," Chaol said.

Simultaneously, Ren seethed, "_Bullshit_. You un-humans act all superior. You've got no right too-I've got my own ideals and my own life, and nothing's gonna change that. You wanna act all wise? You're failing miserably, and-" he cut himself off, no doubt before he started cursing, something Chaol appreciated, then glared once more at Dorian. "Anyways, the queen wants to see us."

Dorian said nothing, just turned his head away with a slight nod in walk to the gardens, where most meetings occurred.

In the clearing, there was Aelin and Aedion, and that damned hawk on Aelin's shoulder. Chaol's heart skipped a beat as his eyes took in Aelin. There was a time when she would look at him like that, would return his feelings. Chaol didn't know what Aelin thought of him. He only could guess what Celaena thought of him.

"Dorian, Ren, Chaol." Aedion nods his head towards each of them. "Sorry for the quick notice."

"Oh, so you speak for her now?" Ren sneers, jerking his head towards Aelin. "She gonna discard us now, now that war's over and she has no need for regular people now?" Chaol watched Ren rub his side where he had been burned by Aelin's fire by accident.

Chaol found himself saying, "You've been ignoring anyone who hasn't been with you since you left for Terrasen. Since you're queen and all, I suppose that our titles will be given to your _closer_ friends?"

The bird huffed, spreading out its' feathers as if it could intimidate them. Chaol wanted to pluck each of the bird's god damned feathers and burn them.

Dorian had said nothing until now, his face tightening drastically, then announced, "If you've played us like pawns, just because we don't have that connection to Celaena anymore, then consider yourself almost as bad as my father."

Chaol was shocked. Dorian has always spoken nicely about Aelin's rule and so forth. In fact, so far anything that came out of Dorian's mouth was somehow a compliment or somehow promoted peace.

"You forget that I, too, was a mere person." Aelin says, avoiding their looks. "I had summoned you three so I could bond with you all."

Silence.

Seeing that neither of the three was inclined to speak, she continued, "Now it seems as you think as lowly as me, I won't do such a thing."

Bonding meant Chaol and she could be more than friends. He mentally cursed himself. Why did he always have to ruin everything with her? Her words were a blow worse than a sword's stab into his heart. Bonding meant that she hadn't detested him as much as he thought. Now? He could only assume the worst.

"But I'll give you a chance. If you get the approval of anyone from the cadre, I will bond with you," Aelin finished. The cadre consisted of the five animals that had destroyed the towers that prevented magic, allowing Aelin to rule The King of Adarlan's tyranny. How the hell was he supposed to get _approval_ from animals? Besides, the only animal from the cadre that was seen was the hawk, which was almost always around her.

Her eyes connected with Chaol for less than a second, but he could still see the hurt their words had inflicted upon her. Chaol stared at the ground, not knowing what to say. His eyes flickered back up to say something, _anything._

But she had already left.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**A/N: Well...it certainly will be fun writing about the parts where Choal, Dorian, and Ren don't know that the _Hawk_ is also actually human. As the fanfic progresses, I may stray from the character's already developed personality from the original books for some reasons such as humor.**

**Lizbeth**


	2. Ascension

**Restoration and Destruction**

**A/N: Here's a really long update! Y'all ready? **

**Chapter 2: Ascension**

Aedion's POV

"Have I really changed that much?" Aelin yelled at the wall, slamming her fists into a punching bag. "What have I done to everyone here to the point where no one trusts me?"

"Everyone," he theorized, "Is an extremely strong word. For example-"

"By the Wyrd, just shut the hell up." Aelin growled, punching the bag harder.

Aedion didn't respond, just watched. He hadn't known Celaena in the first place. He'd known Aelin as the young princess. He was more than horrified to know that she'd been an assassin, thrown into Endovier, and been the former King of Adarlan's pawn. She had suffered as much as he, perhaps more.

Rowan was monitoring the three rejects, just to make sure they wouldn't do anything stupid. Aelin, for some odd reason, hadn't questioned his loyalties as soon as they met. In fact, they had bonded right away, Rowan's eyes critically analyzing every move.

_Flashback_

_Aedion was bloody as hell, tired as hell, felt like he'd been to hell, looked like hell, cursed hell. He was tied to a damned wall with these damned iron chains in a rotten, damned cell with a damned blindfold around his eyes so he had lost his damned sense of time and direction. He, for whatever weird reason the king felt necessary, was still fed some food that tasted like shit and was forced down some liquid that tasted like acid. Moreover, he smelled like a shit bomb, forced to pee and shit in his own damned pants. He felt so vulnerable that he no longer felt humiliated by his current state. He only felt anger that couldn't be taken out on anything._

_Oblivion._

_He could finally understand what it felt like, could finally grasp the word. He was slowly dying, his muscles in atrophy, his demi-Fae instincts and senses no longer intact, his mind frequently blacking out. An executioner would come in once and a while to try new methods on him, while Aedion was god-damned blind folded. The physical pain, however, was nothing compared emotionally. He had failed for the Ashryvers and Galanthuyius, failed for the land's redemption and people. He was a failure, a failure after all those years working in be in the King's favor. All the betrayal came at nothing._

_He didn't know when, or how, but one moment, he was in his usual state of pain, and the next moment, there was the usual racket of the door being open from the executioner, then a searing light as the god damned blindfold was taken off his eyes._

_He nearly wept at the sight of his long lost cousin._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_"He will make it, most likely only because Fae blood runs through his veins. He's lucky his body has accepted his Fae heritage or else the healing process would be a lot more painful. His body couldn't easily repair itself because of the iron. He'll make it." A male's voice fills the room, and Aedion didn't have to be in his current state to eve realize that the guy was talking from experience._

_His body shuddered from where he was. He knew one Fae was in the room, and-_

_-His head throbbed from the thinking_

_"Are you sure?" a female asked, the voice somehow familiar and soothing. "I can't lose him-I can't. Not after all this. He's the only person who knew me as Aelin personally, who didn't die because of the Adarlan King. If he dies-"_

_The same male voice was gentler this time, effectively cutting the female's voice off. "I know, Aelin, I know. It'll be alright. He'll be alright."_

_Aedion passed out again, but not before realizing Aelin was talking._

_He wasn't delusional. She was alive. All his work wasn't for nothing. His heart rate picked up-gods, if he'd known she was alive..._

_._

_._

_._

_This time, Aedion could actually move his body when he woke up._

_"...have to move quickly," Aelin muttered._

_"…didn't go to Anielle…his father is furious…more killings," another voice chimes in, one that he didn't recognize._

_"Of course he didn't," Aelin hissed, "Chaol's to stupid for his own good." _

_Then, the other male voice says, "The sooner we attack, the sooner this is all over."_

_Attack? Aedion's mind raced, fitting the puzzle pieces together. Aelin and others were planning to launch an attack on Adarlan. God damn Aelin if she thought he wouldn't be there in the front lines. He had suffered just as much as her, a spy within the ranks of the enemy. Turning his back on his people was the horrifying thing of all, but the most horrifying thing of all was that no one knew he was a spy. Would they doubt him-kill him? But then why bother letting him recover?_

_He jerked forward, his entire torso throbbing. He had to explain, make things right. "Attack?" he'd ranted, "When? Now? My sword? Where?" He wildly swung his head around, his head now hurting as if it'd been sliced. _

_"What the hell?" the unfamiliar voice yelped, "I thought he wasn't supposed to recover for ten hours at the least!"_

_Aedion attempted to open his eyes, but immediately closed them as the lights blurred his vision._

_"Perhaps _attack_ was a trigger word," the Fae commented dryly._

_Aedion's skull felt like it was about to explode, gunpowder spread through each space in his brain. The light was the match as he passed out._

_._

_._

_._

_"With magic at free reign, we can easily assume it'll be over. I'll cover the most ground." The Fae said._

_Aedion knew Rowan wasn't boasting or trying to prove that he was better. He wanted a simple war, one that could be over quickly, with the minimal injuries and deaths._

_"What about the demi-Fae? Why are they staying out of the fight?" Aedion pressed._

_Rowan's mouth tightened before saying, "they're still not ready."_

_"Bullshit. We've been both training them. Our insiders have died, so we have no source of what his army is like."_

_"Exactly why they should stay out of it." His jaw flickered._

_"Don't underestimate people with a will who set their minds to what they want," Aedion murmured. "The Adarlan King was no one, yet he thought he could rule the world. Look where he is now."_

_Rowan sighed. "I'll spare a few, then, those who are the top of their training." He gathered the papers on the desk, nodded towards him, and then left._

_Aedion went to his room, running his fingers over the hilt of the Ornyth's sword, given to him by Aelin. He had worked so much in his life all to see the Galanthiyus and Terrasen lands free. Now it would become a reality. He rubbed his nose with his thumb, sighing. He was nowhere near his prime shape after being cooped up in the cell, and his body was hurting. Yet he would continue to push, just for the possibility of a better world._

_"It smells like crap in here," a voice said at his doorway. He'd only come to this room to sleep, even if he hadn't taken a shower. In addition, when he first got the room, he hadn't bothered cleaning it. He wasn't coming back to this place when he was positive they would take over the castle._

_"Aelin," he responded, and then nodded towards her. The first time he'd awoken to see her staring at him intently, he'd rushed out of the bed, and sank onto his knees. Her expression was one that was more than comical. After several arguments, Aedion had finally agreed to just call her by her name, not by any titles._

_"I want you to stay when it's time." She said, studiously ignoring his eye. Time, as in when they launched the attack on the King of Adarlan and his vicious army. Even they had magic, but with Aelin's, the tide would turn drastically._

_"Are you crazy?" he demanded. "By the Wryd-"_

_"You're still injured." She snapped. "Gods forbid that you go out there and die recklessly."_

_His mouth twitched. "Recklessly? Really? I would die heroically."_

_"You're not seeing the point!" she exploded, his room heating up significantly from her magic. "If you died-"_

_"-which may not happen," he retorted calmly._

_Aelin threw her hands up and stalked towards his window. "-which may happen. You are more than needed alive and-"_

_"-everyone is needed alive." Aedion growled. "My life is just worth as anyone else's and my life is my concern, and if I die, then I died knowing our kingdoms have a chance."_

_"Stop talking like that!" she shouted. "What if Rowan died?"_

_Aedion blinked. "Well, what if I died and the King died?"_

_"What if I died?" her hands were on her hips now._

_"What if everyone died and then the entire world died and then some random extra-terrestrial thing came down and died and-"_

_Aelin threw a poker stick at him, to which he deftly dodged. It clattered to the floor loudly, distantly reminding him of knife infliction._

_"What is going on?" Rowan said, appearing at the door, his eyes narrowed. He looked at Aelin. "He said no?"_

_"No to what?" Aedion said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rowan cross his arms and his posture stiffen._

_"Aedion," Aelin said calmly, not before glaring daggers at Rowan. "Would you like to bond with me?"_

_._

_._

_._

"I'm hungry," Aelin announced, partially snapping Aedion out of his thoughts.

Aelin needed a king in order to rise to the throne. In Adarlan, she could rule alone, but in order to unite with Terrasen, she needed a king. And he didn't know a damn who'd she pick. But he would be by her side, to guide her.

Because that's what family did.

"Let's head to the kitchen," she added, when Aedion didn't move.

Aedion shook his head. Despite her skinny frame, she ate more than three to four full-grown Faes. "Careful, you might end up obese." He snorted at the sight of a fat Aelin, but the image just wouldn't come.

Aelin threw the fire place poker at him, muttering _bastard_ at him, and then stalked towards the kitchen.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Chaol's POV

"What does it exactly mean to be bonded with someone?" Chaol said. "What's the deeper connection? How does the bonding work with animals-like with Celaena and her hawk? Or at least, I think they're bonded."

Dorain just shook his head, and simply walked away in the direction of the pound. Ren, however, smirked, and said, "Bet she'd lied, just so we would feel guilty and want to prove to her twice our loyalty."

"Why do you hate her so much?" Dorian asked quietly. He and Ren were standing across from each other, eyes locked, and Chaol silently debated whether or not to interfere.

Ren scowled, his face contorted. "It's all about dictatorship. The word democracy might as well not exist. She's queen and can choose her court and now everyone will bow down towards her, thinking it's a good thing. Good things never last. There are so many incurable things in the world, and the fate of others in one person's mind ultimately is not something I want. She may want to bond with us, but what the hell; she's her own person and went through hell. Who knows what sick, twisted, monster she may be underneath? She's an assassin. No one in her court will balance the things she'll do or went through. No one's the same. No one is fit for rule. Much less she should be at the top."

Chaol didn't know what to think. Celaena had worked hard to accomplish and establish peace, all just to fulfill her friend, Nehemia's, promise. He wondered if he had warned Celaena that night about Nehemia-would they be together? He had set the switch from Celaena to Aelin and he didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing.

Chaol simply shook his head in response. "You think of her as the assassin before she left-the one you _knew_. And you didn't even really know her before that, too. You don't know her now. Neither do I. If everyone's corrupt as you seem to believe, then do something. I will be in her court-I will strive to gain her trust. Why? Maybe because I still love her. I-"

Chaol took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Ren's burning eyes. He quickly averted them, then left, his hand no longer on the hilt of his sword. He couldn't say those three words about Aelin. He could, though, say _I love you _to Celaena.

Ren's shoulders hunched, and he also walked away, not before sparing a burning glare towards Dorian.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Dorian's POV

"_To Aelin's Court: we look forward in hearing news of the ball and it's holding. We, however, on behalf of the Ashryvers, will not be able to attend. Terrasen is going through a reconstruction phase and we want nothing to stop that. We give our best wishes to Aelin and her soon-to-be husband. Remember that it is in our code for the ruler to have a king/queen for Aelin to ascend the throne. It is a new era, and we thank you on behalf of Ellywe too, for all that you have done. May the gods favor us all_…" Dorian read aloud, astounded.

"By the Wryd," Murtaugh said, coming into the hall. "They're forcing her to marry already?"

Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. This letter had just flown from the window and landed on the council's desk. "It doesn't say the deadline. So hopefully this won't mean anything for a year or two, or better off, more."

Murtaugh slumped into a seat. "Why does this matter? Everything's happening so fast. I thought we'd have time to just settle down, rejoice, be with the common folk, act like it was all back then."

Dorian bobbed his head in agreement, not really hearing him. "Who could match Aelin? The only person she doesn't push away isn't a person-it's an animal, a _hawk_. It'd be ridiculous for her to marry an animal."

Murtaugh handed him a glass of wine, and downed his own cup. "I hear marriage is a serious thing with the Fae. If you aren't compatible, or something like that, the results end in bloodshed. Most Fae just mate and all, but never marry. Maybe the Ashryvers hate the Fae 'cause they're immortal and they're not and maybe want to bring down Aelin in the most simplest way: marriage."

Dorian choked on his wine. "Whatever made you think of that?"

Murtaugh poured himself another glass of wine. "It's just sketchy asking for her to marry so soon. Most of Ashryvers have mated, but marriage isn't something common there. I don't know. I just want this rule to work out."

Dorian nodded. "Yes, of course. Today's gone drearily. Have you talked with Aelin?"

Murtaugh snorted and swallowed thickly. "I'm in her court now, so yes."

Dorian shot out of his seat, the cup of wine in his hands turning into ice. "How? What? Why?"

He shrugged. "Boy, it's her hawk that said I should be in her court. I don't know what he said, or why or how she could talk to hawks, but that's how it went."

Dorian swore. So he _really _needed an animal's approval?

.

.

.

Dorian lifted up a blade. Such cruel things could come with a flick of anyone's wrist carrying this thing. He distantly recalled the tips and techniques Chaol had taught him.

"Dorian," an unfamiliar voice said.

He dropped the blade, which clattered loudly to the floor, and jumped back five feet, as if he was a deer caught in headlights. He turned towards the entrance to see The Fae.

"Or should I say Prince Dorian?" The Fae added. "But when will people call you King Dorian?"

Dorian was dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" But he knew what The Fae meant. Dorian had been killing every thought that mentioned he was neglecting his duties as soon to be King. His father was the King of Adarla, meaning Dorian did have to somehow ascend the throne. Or he could point a successor, which would no doubt be a failure.

"So you're hoping Aelin will rule Adarlan, too?" The Fae asked.

Dorian didn't know what to say. "I know what you're thinking-that I'm some pathetic weakling that is too afraid to ascend the throne, but a lot has happened and…" he fell silent, not knowing what to say.

"Do you want to know the most pathetic thing of all?" The Fae said, leaning casually against the door frame.

Dorian's chin jerked up. His audacity...

"You want to be in Aelin's court," The Fae stated, "When you've got your own kingdom to attend to- yet you want to join someone else's."

Dorian blinked. He hadn't thought of that. He was used to others protecting him. But the way The Fae was speaking…

"If you're so keen for me to ascend the throne, then you're somehow wishing for me to be king for whatever reason. Why? Aren't you supposed to be wanting Aelin to be ruling the world? Why, then, aren't you acknowledging me as King?"

The Fae stared at him. "A King would know these answers." Then he walked away.

Dorian slowly walked back to the sword on the ground.

No longer was he in his familiar castle-he didn't know half of the inhabitants. He knew Aelin would leave for Terrasen and Ellywe and perhaps Doranelle. All his comforts were gone. There were just so much complications.

And there was that tiny voice in his head that asked if his father's death was what he really wanted.

Dorian immediately banished the thought, and picked up the sword.

_King._ What a title.

**XXX**

Aelin's POV

"Remain poised, chin slightly up, curtsy, what the hell does _práxi__̱__, ópo__̱__s thélete na to kreváti to en lógo__̱__próso__̱__po _mean?" she snorted, throwing the book at the wall. She was no longer as tired as before with sleeping and napping, also avoiding everyone else.

Rowan abruptly look up, alarmed. He was in his Fae form, polishing his daggers in such a caressing way she'd wish the dagger was her. "What book are you reading?" He had arrived to her room later than usually, a calculating look on his face.

"_Guide to a Terrasen dance._" She recited. "You know how the council wants a ball in a celebration for this and that and know who knows what? Anyways, my family from the Ashryvers' side want me to marry in order to ascend the throne. And then they gave me that book that is half written in Greek. What the hell did that even mean?"

Rowan coughed. "You have to marry?"

"Stop changing the subject."

"The Ashryvers are-"

"What did that mean, Rowan?"

"-are a highly respectable family. You don't have to do what they say, though."

She narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong with being married? I mean, I'll just avoid whoever it is and-"

"-Aelin," Rowan said impatiently, "Marriage is the highest level of bonding there is-only death can break it and it's the worse feeling out of anything in the world. People only usually marry someone they're meant for-soul mate, _carranam_, you get the idea. "

Aelin was quiet for a moment. It must be awful for Rowan to still be alive while his wife, Lyria, was dead. They were soul mates, something Aelin had forgotten about. She'd always felt like Rowan was hers and him hers. "How'd you know Lyria was yours?"

Rowan stayed quiet for a moment, and then said, "You know if you're soul mates if it's all her. Everything boils down to her. It's not just a matter of priority. You can feel what she does, sometimes. It's terrifying and exulting at the same time. You never forget."

The idea of Rowan with another person made her sick. She stayed quiet, mulling over her options of males to marry. Rowan wasn't an option-not with a soul mate, dead or alive. Definitely not Ren-he loathed her, and the feeling was mutual, even if he'd stayed loyal to her. Chaol…

There was room in her broken heart that loved him. But Nehemia would still, perhaps, be alive, if it weren't for him. Even if he had the best intentions. Every time she thought of Chaol, she thought of Nehemia. She didn't know what to do with him.

Dorian wasn't over this woman called Sorscha. It was that evident. He yelled her name in his sleep. He had taken a peculiar interest in medicine, and always headed to her old work station. Aelin wondered if Dorian, who had magic, was at least bonded without his knowing with Sorscha. The thought made her sick.

Perhaps one of Rowan's friends would do-one that wasn't in Maeve's court. But they would no doubt be Fae, while she was still mortal...

The ball. Maybe she'd meet her prince charming there.

"What are you thinking about?" Rowan said, his voice low, and _husky_?

She looked up to see him staring at her, his hands no longer on the daggers. "Just the options of who to marry."

Rowan's hand tighten on his belt. "You don't have to marry so soon, Aelin. Marriage needs time."

Aelin glared at him. "I can't believe it. I must ascend the throne for the sake of my people-what if a tyrant takes the throne before I do?"

"I'll knock him off the throne, then." He growled. "The Ashryvers should respect what we've been through and let us have some time-"

"-Time is a necessity we do not have, Rowan." She bit her lip and looked outside the window.

"A masquerade, then." Rowan said, after a few minutes. "You won't see anyone's faces, and it all comes down to connection and feeling, if you really want to marry."

Aelin's stomach twisted. She hadn't really wanted Rowan to support the idea of marriage. What was wrong with her? It was her duty, after all. So all she said was, "Alright."

"It meant, _act like you want to have sex with everyone you meet_." Rowan said, his mouth twitching, by the way, and then added. "Remember you don't have to follow every single god damned rule. It's just some rule the Ashryvers have."

Aelin sauntered around Rowan, her fire jabbing him playfully. "Shall I practice on you?" she purred.

Rowan stiffened dramatically.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**A/N: Thanks to those who followed/favorited/reviewed! And to those two users (you know who you are) who have been really suggesting these comments that are quite rude…if you don't like my story, don't read it. It's that simple. Anyways, really, I'm really blessed that people are enjoying this story.**

**-Lizbeth**

**p.s. happy late/early easter:)**


	3. Flamingo

**Restoration and Destruction**

**A/N: I wrote a new story for this fandom called Gold Dust or Bust. It's an AU &amp; AH story. Check it out?**

**Chapter 3: Flamingo**

Chaol's POV

"Close your eyes," Aedion growled at Ren, an unspoken threat hanging in the air.

Ren attempted to growl back, only ending up into a coughing fit. "Either way, I wouldn't be able to see the words," he ended up saying.

Chaol rolled his eyes. Aelin, after announcing yesterday that they needed an _animal_'s approval to be in her court, had also announced that a masquerade ball was to be held. Everyone deigned to be in her court or lived in the palace had to somehow prepare for the event. Not only that, but everyone had to wear costumes-not just suits and dresses.

Ren exaggeratedly closed his eyes and reached his hand into the gigantic cooking bowl. He then proceeded to pull out a tiny slip of paper, opening his eyes. "Ha!" he crowed at everyone. "I got it!"

The things Chaol would do just for a moment for life to be fair. Why did the word _fair_ even exit if its' meaning of just didn't really exist at all? Everyone was vying for that one slip of paper that had the two words _taste tester_ on it.

At last, it was Chaol's turn, and he was more than unhappy to see the words on the slip of paper: _berry picker._

**.**

**.**

**.**

Chaol had never fully realized how he should have appreciated water until now. It was as if Aelin was making the Sun burn brighter than usual-he was pretty sure today topped all records of sweating. Every inch on his skin was drenched, and his back was cracking with each movement he made, his entire uniform drenched. Most of the demi-Fae got easy tasks-such as kneading bread, setting up tables, or even making sure the outpost was working fluidly, which was hisi next job after this.

Chaol took off his shirt, rolling up the bottoms of his pants. Swarms of bugs tore at his skin, but he determinedly ignored them. He had to work for redemption for Aelin. He _had _to. He had nothing else in his life. He hadn't gone to Anielle as he promised his father-he lost his title there and was disowned. He wasn't a Westfall now. This was his only option, save for running away.

"Chaol?" Dorian appeared through the cluster of thick bushes. "I need your opinion."

Chaol wiped sweat brimming into his eyes, blinking rapidly, his vision blurring. When did his opinion ever matter on important issues? All because of wanting to do what he thought was for the best-everyone held it against him. "What?" he snapped, hoping Dorian would actually ask him how he was, or something similar to the conversations they used to have before _Celaena_ came and took it all away. Was it right to have a grudge on her? As if she was the victim? Chaol was victim enough-what did he have to suffer? If Nehemia hadn't died, where would they all be right now? it was Archer who killed her. Yet Chaol indirectly killed her, just to protect Celaena. They couldn't see the option if Chaol _had _warned her. Would they even still all be alive?

Instead, all Dorian said was, "Is Aedion telling the truth how you use mistletoe for summer/spring decorations? I had a feeling you use it for winter, but…"

So Chaol was just a reference? Did Dorian already ask Aedion first? He wasn't going to correct Dorian-no, Chaol felt too bitter for that, but he also wasn't going to agree with Aedion as if he was just a user friend. "You use holly, Dorian," was all Chaol said. "Holly." Chaol sent a silent prayer to the gods if Dorian seriously didn't know what mistletoe and holly was, and how they were only used in the winter when it was god damned summer.

Dorian nodded, "Okay. So mistletoe and holly." His voice was questioning. Chaol wanted to smack himself.

When Chaol didn't say anything, Dorian slightly frowned. "I think I'll put them in pots. They'd look cute there. That was pretty nice of Aedion to actually suggest something."

Chaol sent another prayer to the gods-by the Wyrd mistletoe was to hang from the ceilings, not go in freaking pots. Chaol just continued snagging berries from the branches, careful to not squish them as he placed them in baskets. The cook, or whoever was going to use them, better appreciate the load of berries.

"Holly?" Dorian said. "What does it look like? It is a summer plant, correct?"

With that, Chaol threw his hands up in the air. "By the Wryd, Dorian. You never use those plants in winter. It's fine!"

"Is that so?" a voice said. There was no mockery, just an inquiry.

Chaol turned to see The Fae that he had grown to resent stalking past them, emerging from the opposite clearing, a growl on his face and a pink feather sticking out of the back of his head. There were a couple of blueberries stuck all over his pink costume, the horrible mix of colors hurting his eyes. Chaol could actually understand The Fae's usual anger this time-he had the most horrible task of them all.

The Fae was carrying multiple costumes in a bag, a flamingo one halfway around his torso. His face was grim, his ears pricked. "Tell anyone designer that I headed towards the library," he said, "I need them to leave me alone."

Chaol and Dorian nodded solemnly. There were certain actions that could call the most unlikely people together, and this was one of them. They had all fought battles waged for stupid reasons, watched people's limbs slowly get pricked off, sufferings of plagues, terrible things, but lady chores was the most absolute horrifying thing of all.

Chaol could see the Fae's veins popping out at the base of his neck as a fashion designer hollered somewhere in the east direction _where the hell did our flamingo go?_

The Fae quickly ran in the opposite direction of the voice, and not soon after he left, a cluster of designers and photographers came into the clearing, demanding where The Fae had gone.

"The library," both Chaol and Dorian said in unison.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Aedion's POV

His wrist was hurting. Yet he couldn't complain compared to the tasks most of the other males were to perform. The only upside was that he could look out the window and watch humiliating scenes unfold in front of him.

He watched as Chaol savagely picked each berry, cursing each time he pricked his finger. Dorian was placing an odd assortment of plants together, no doubt not knowing what each plant meant. The only plants Dorian left alone were the ones for medical purposes-so that meant Dorian at least had some expertise in that area, or knew someone with that expertise.

Most of the letters were from his kin, the Ashryvers, demanding that Aelin marry as soon as possible. He couldn't help the feeling that there were more to this _demand_ that could be seen. Marriage was something only _carranam _with feelings for each other did, not even just Fae who mated. Aelin could marry Rowan, but he already had a mate-Lyria. Even though marrying someone outweighed a mating, Rowan probably wouldn't out of dignity and most likely because he and Aelin were just friends.

Aedion didn't get why his family wanted Aelin to marry so soon-they were always reasonable. None of his reasoning he came out with could justify their acts. Yet he couldn't really come up with much reasons when he hadn't been with them ever since he "_betrayed_" them all. From the outside world, he was still a traitor-no one knew he had served the former Adarlan King to act as a spy.

Aelin could marry Dorian, just to unite her two kingdoms with Adarlan, but many people might protest due to such a large dominance under two rulers with magical powers. Aedion didn't even know if Dorian would resort to the idea of marrying her-Dorian did have some stronger sense of emotions due to his powers, and Aedion could tell that he had fallen in love with someone. To fall in love with another person would be easier if he were completely human.

Chaol and Ren were out of the picture. Aedion didn't know what tensions happened between them and Aelin, but she would never stoop so low, especially she wasn't a forgiving person.

Aedion shuffled through the papers, one catching his eye. It read:

_To Celaena, or Aelin, or whichever name you preferred to be called. Or maybe you prefer neither name:_

_I've heard of your wondrous deeds, beheading the tyrant of Adarlan, killing the Valg, and other feats while you became Aelin. I don't know if you're the same person I knew, considering it was such a short time, but I received an invitation to the masquerade ball. I wasn't sure how to take it, but then I realized that almost all the males of the entire world were invited. Well, not all, but those who somehow knew you in one point of your very busy life or higher up in class. I'm guessing I got this letter because I knew you, considering I'm a criminal now. Do you want to know how I first became one? I stole jewels. It reminds me of your 'title', the Bell-Haven one during the competition. How I lead to that path is a long story, but my name was cleared since I was 'stealing' to piss of the King and another long story. I'm hoping to meet you at the ball, to catch up as acquaintances. Save me a dance,_

_Nox_

Aedion frowned. Who the hell was Nox? Who the hell was he to just address her as Celaena/Aelin when she was queen to be? His audacity made Aedion want to hurl. He didn't know Nox at all and didn't know if he posed a threat from any scale. Aedion made a mental note to make sure he wasn't a threat.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Rowan's POV

Rowan had never ever wanted to kill someone as much right now. The _designers_ were worse than Maeve. They were obnoxious and annoying and terrifying and horrible and so many other complicated adjectives Rowan wanted to throw up.

If this was a punishment for wishing that he could be with Aelin, then he would suffer.

"Prance like a deer!" one was saying.

"Act like a prey! There's a hot lion coming at ya!" another one added.

"Stop acting like a predator! Loosen up! Act loose!"

"Try the fish one on now. The deer one would look better on a tanner person."

The costume designers swarmed him again and threw a fish costume on him.

"Oh, I think we made the lips to big."

"Fae, do you mind puckering your lips?"

Rowan didn't oblige. He knew his nickname around the palace was _The Fae_, or just simply, _Fae_. The only person who knew that his name was actually Rowan was Aelin and Aedion. He didn't know why he didn't feel comfortable with people knowing his name. All the mortal fools here didn't know the deadliness he could strike upon them. The fools didn't even know he was a prince and they were shredding his dignity.

This had to be some test on his patience.

"Brother, act like you're gonna kiss your soul mate."

Rowan tried to clench his fists, but the gill part of the costume prevented that. He was not their brother. How dare they call him that? His soul mate was Lyria. And she was dead.

"Have you not kissed anyone? Pucker up, muscles."

Aelin. That was all Rowan could think of kissing. Soul mates meant that everything was her. It didn't make sense. He should be thinking of Lyria.

But it was all Aelin. It didn't add up.

With a sigh, Rowan closed his eyes as the designers swarmed him again, chiding him, telling him to put more effort into his task.

**. . .**

"Say cheese!"

Rowan was now in a mouse costume.

The back part was extremely tight, pushing his entire lower torso forward.

"Push your bum out!" someone instructed.

Like hell he would. He couldn't even move.

All their voices seemed to blend together.

All Rowan felt was rage. This and this and that and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and that. How he wanted to gut them all. For Aelin he wouldn't.

What got him was when they put him in a flamingo costume. How the hell could he walk with one leg? Flamingos were prey and died easily-something he was not. They were pushing his limits.

He would not tolerate being a useless wimp anymore. With a roar, he tore out of the costume, only to discover to his absolute horror, that the bottom part was stuck to him. Gods, _they glued the material to him?_

Rowan shot out of the courtyard, and into the gardens, despite the yells and shouts of the pests to come back. Never.

He blurred past Chaol and Dorian talking, only stopping to instruct them to deceive the pests. He distantly heard one of the pests asking where their flamingo was. He was not a flamingo! He was Prince Rowan Whitehorn, warrior and conqueror and so much more!

He rounded back up the castle, in the opposite side of the library. He threw open a random door, spotting Aedion intently reading a letter.

He didn't mind Aedion in the court. He was loyal, and endured whippings and chains everywhere just for Aelin. He'd endure hell just to protect her.

Aedion looked up, a crease in his eyebrows, motioning for him to take a look at the letters. Rowan skimmed each one, catching words such as _marriage, immediately, throne, ascend, king. _Aedion was pacing around the room, the one letter still in his hands, muttering the word _Nox_ over and over.

Rowan didn't care about Aedion's Nox at the moment. Aelin was to marry so soon? He was positive Aelin didn't even know the full understanding and depth marriage was.

Dorian was a king who had been avoided the throne. Chaol had caused Aelin's greatest sorrow of Nehemia's death, which had spurred the rebellion, which had cost the lives of the people in Calculla and Endovier. Aelin was searching for a king. And that made his stomach twist.

She would be seeking a guy at the masquerade ball, and more than thousands of suitors and males would try to win her over.

Gods. He didn't know a damned thing to do.

But then a plan began to formulate in his head.

**XXX**

Dorian's POV

Dorian thought Chaol and Aedion were being nice to him. Holly and mistletoe. He should have known that they were pranking him.

"Why?" Aelin shrieked. "These are for winter! I can't believe it! This isn't a joke! I have to impress people, and they'll think I'm abusing my power for switching the meaning of plants!"

Dorian's ears began to throb.

At first he thought that the ball would be a good idea as a distraction from Sorscha. But then he realized that there would be no other one to replace her. The feelings for her were incomparable and preceded everything else.

He might have felt remorse for his father's death if not for Sorscha's death.

_Sorscha. Sorscha. Sorscha._

He'd almost forgotten her smile. If she'd only listen and left the castle. Why'd she have to meddle with Ren and send those god-damned letters? If Ren hadn't contacted her asking for help, she wouldn't have been caught. The only person he loathed here was Ren.

"Are you even listening to me?" Aelin demanded.

Dorian met her eyes, and there was a long silence.

"Dorain," she said softly, "What happened when I was away?"

Gods. That was too much of a question. So much had happened. Emotionally. Physically. Every comfort he once knew was gone.

So all he could say was _I fell in love_.

Dorian didn't see Aelin's eyes flicker with some emotion. Dorian didn't see the world around him. All he could hear was a rushing in his ears, his powers erupting into the atmosphere.

Why did his father have to be so corrupted? Was there a world where Sorscha was still alive?

Dorian felt ice and its' coldness and felt anger and –

-it was all gone. There was a fire raging around him and Aelin furiously glaring down at him.

He looked at his surroundings. The courtyard was covered in ice, twisted shapes and figures forming. Most of the figures were melting away due to Aelin's fire, so Dorian wasn't able to see what his ice was building.

Dorian placed his head in his hands. He messed everything up.

After a long silence, he heard Aelin sit too, next to him.

And Dorian began to talk. The night he met Sorscha. The iron. Seeing Chaol and Aedion in the hallway. Sorscha's beheading. His magic attacking his father. His father claiming him in dark magic with chains. Nightmares that haunted him ever since. The burden. The burden of being a king of Ardarlan.

And speaking, he felt lighter than ever. Because even though Sorscha was dead, there was hope for a better kingdom now. With help and guidance and experience and no threat. He had to make sure whatever he did, Sorscha would approve.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Ren's POV

Ren could practically see the jealousy in everyone's eyes as he gobbled down pastries and buttered sweets and seasoned meat. They were all delicious, and he critiqued each dish seriously. After all, it was his duty to make sure everything tasted absolutely divine.

However, eating was when Ren thought and mused over things.

And right now, he was thinking of Aelin's court. So much bloodshed had come, just to overthrow The King of Adarlan. What bloodshed would it take to bring down Aelin's court and Dorian's court? He didn't want to think about the future if Aelin and Dorian married. Three powerful lands combined...

He was just a Lord of Alsbrook. And that land was destroyed by Dorian's icy powers when he was trapped in his father's collar. He wasn't sure if he even had that title anymore. If Dorian or Aelin ever turned evil…

"Thank you, Lord of Alsbrook," a cook called Emrys said. "The ball's feast will be sure to delight every single tongue out there."

Ren managed a smile, told him to call him Ren, and left for the gardens.

Outdoors was his favorite. Being cooped up to much often gave him headaches. He watched as leaves fell, ants crawled here and there, the breeze's familiar song, and then a shadow materializing in front of him. Ren immediately recognized the assassin.

Arobynn Hamel.

What the hell was he doing here? He'd heard that Aelin didn't want to bother with killing him due to saving her life when she was little, which was noble, he supposed. Aelin lit the entire keep on fire, retrieved some piece she needed, then fled.

That was the connection Ren could make with her. If he'd gone through with she did with Arobynn's betrayal after being the only family-like figure…it wasn't cowardice in not choosing to face Arobynn. In fact, he thought it was a wise decision. He wouldn't have been able to control himself if he was her.

"You," was all Ren could say. He didn't personally know Arobynn. But Ren was planning on serving in Aelin's court, and if killing him was the way…

"There are more than sixty seven ways I could kill you now." He said, reading his thoughts. "So don't bother."

"Are you still the King of Assasins?" Ren pressed. If he wasn't going to kill him, he could at least receive some information.

The man regarded him with cool interest. "I hear Celaena is looking for people mortal or immortal to add to her court."

Ren's interest drastically picked up, noting that he called her Celaena. That was really interesting. Then he said the most interesting thing of all.

"Would she consider adding the assassin's keep to her court?"

**A/N: The Assassin's Keep is now in play! What do you think about Arobynn?**

**I responded to those with an account who reviewed by PM-thanks for reviewing! S/o to Viralsisamazing you're seriously like the best cyber friend for this fandom. Thanks for taking the time to read my fanfics which seem to disappoint a lot of people. Anyways, I'll try to be quick with the next update.**

**Lizbeth**

**P.S. Check out my new story-Gold Dust or Bust?**

**I have a League meet for track tomorrow and I'm running the 1600m and 3200m. And it's supposed to rain. And I have a math test. I don't know why I put this, but I am not looking forward to tomorrow. I hope you guys have a wonderful day tomorrow, one 10 times better than mine. Till the next update!**


	4. Friend or Foe

**Restoration and Destruction**

**A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know I've been really inactive…but on the bright side, here's an extremely long chapter:)**

**Chapter 4: Friend or Foe**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Rowan knew his patience could run on for years. However, he could not say the same for the two _councilman_. Rowan also knew that they weren't really councilman since _a)_ there was no council left that served the former King of Adarlan, and _b)_ the evil glint in one of the person's eyes and the wary glint in the other's eyes spoke volumes.

"_Princess_ Aelin or Celaena, or some other extremely weird name, is not in her inherited Kingdom, which can be seen as a massive threat to Adarlan. Who are you to smirk at me when she burned The King of Adarlan?" Duke Perrington growled.

"Who are you to speak when you've committed no less gruesome and unjustifiable acts?" Rowan sighed, his posture still unwavering after three hours _discussing _issues that always somehow ended up revolving around Aelin. Rowan was certain that the Duke had a personal grudge against Celaena, but the Duke was too dimwitted to note that Celaena was not the same person as Aelin. Rowan had witnessed the transformation of Aelin himself and hoped the others could see it too.

"We served the King of Adarlan, and now we're expected to serve the heir of Terrasen? Are you implying that Princess Aelin rules Adarlan, too? We all know that she can't be queen until she marries." Duke Perrington shot back, his back slightly slumped against the thick chair.

"So, who are you suggesting she marry?" Rowan shrugged. "Certainly not you." It was more than a gruesome image, imagining Aelin in a whit, wedding dress with this bulky, rugged Duke that specifically needed heavy chairs to support his weight.

"My cousin Dorian is heir to the throne of Adarlan and can ascend anytime soon with the proper rituals. However, if the majority of Adarlan's people decline his ascent to the throne, I become eligible to rule and can take his place," Roland Hallivard chimes in, glaring at Rowan. "As a matter of fact, where is he? Gods above he's flirting with some lower rank like that filthy healer beforehand."

Rowan didn't understand how a healer could be filthy, considering these men were filthier. They had demanded a meeting with Aelin's council, and all Aelin could spare at the moment was himself. Rowan personally didn't know these people, except for the fact they served the former King. Rowan could testify additionally that these men were 100% gods be damned annoying like a stick shoved up his ass.

"Dorian Hallivard is actually working on the guest list of the upcoming ball which you I strongly believe you are not invited to," Rowan yawned, while his mind raced. He was going to have another chat with Dorian, who needed to get his ass on the throne of Adarlan before one of these filthy excuses for people could.

"A masquerade that isn't even related to his position as Crown Prince. He's completely ignoring his position and duty." Roland retorted. "Which is a duty and responsibility I would take seriously."

The Duke shot Roland a nasty glare, and muttered words that didn't quite amount to the swearing Aelin did when she was extremely pissed.

Rowan didn't respond to Roland's statement because that much was true. He wanted Aelin to leave this corrupted land as soon as possible and head to Terrasen to repair the land and reclaim her title. Staying here and arranging a ball only further complicated the situation and meant more ties to the people here. The land had so many raw memories for Aelin-that much was always written on her face, and Rowan felt it as his duty to help her feel comfortable and gods be damned, Aelin deserved to be _happy. _Her presence here clearly wasn't emotionally helping her mind, and heading towards Terrasen would be a start.

"So I propose a voting poll," Roland continued, smirking as if he didn't think that Rowan knew they would rig the votes. Rowan had to force himself to not roll his eyes. Humans were so dim-witted.

"I served the King of Adarlan," Duke Perrington says, his eyes gleaming, "and Dorian isn't anything like his father. He's weak, while his father knew what he was doing. Dorian is a little brat who will amount to nothing on the throne. Someone, perhaps, like Roland, would get work done. It's even more convenient that Roland here has Hallivard blood. Dorian's father-"

"-Is dead," Rowan felt the need to point that out. Dorian needed to seriously get his sorry ass up on the throne and rid of these backstabbers. If Rowan laid a hand on these people, it would seem like a move against Adarlan rule and perhaps the start of a war.

"Dorian's father-" The Duke's large hands gripped the table, his large black ring reflecting black across his eyes, "-took necessary action-"

"-Killing over two hundred and seventy six hundred thousand eighty nine hundred and four people was necessary action?" Rowan snorted, meeting the Duke's black eyes.

Roland Hallivard took a long drain of his wine and slumped down into his velvet cushion, no doubt beyond frustrated with three hours of talk going nowhere.

The Duke's grip tightened on the table. "_My_ point is that Dorian is not suited for the position as the King of Adarlan. Roland and I, or just myself would be better off in that position; nevertheless, I know a better candidate."

Rowan's brows rose even higher. Now this conversation was going somewhere. He had a feeling he wouldn't like this _better candidate._It was safe to assume that both the Duke and Roland wanted to keep Dorian off the royal throne by all means necessary. But their biggest difference was who should ascend the throne.

Rowan turned his attention towards Roland. "You have been implying that you want to ascend the throne. Yet your _friend_ is suggesting someone else. What are you getting at?"

Roland's forehead pinched, as if having a silent debate with himself, eyes cast downward at the table. The Duke stared at Roland, his eyes glinting with some dark severity and maliciousness.

"Roland Hallivard," the Duke growled softly, something else in his tone. "Who are we _both_ suggesting to be the King of Adarlan?"

Rowan knew without a doubt the Duke was forcing Roland into this position now. Despite the authority Roland had over the Duke, he was consenting to his will. Something _dark_ was happening, and Rowan didn't like it at all.

Roland looked up at the Duke, who was staring back at him. Roland looked away and faced Rowan.

"Arobynn Hamel."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Dorian's POV

Dorian hated ladies that were crazy. He also hated ladies that reminded him of someone else. He also recently discovered that he didn't know what to do with people whose names started with the letter _A._

"The Western Wastes!" the woman shrieked. "How can you have not heard of the land? Are you so dim-witted and ignorant of other lands and places that you cannot even recognize the name? Are you sure you are Dorian Hallivard, son of the former King of Adalarlan? Does your dead father know the existence of Western Wastes?"

This woman was pushing his buttons and was so blunt Dorian wanted to hit his head against the wall till he had a concussion and didn't have to deal with her.

"Nothing's there," Dorian hissed, the woman frying his nerves, "Ever since the Crochan Witch Wars, the land's been bare."

"Are you insulting me?" the women sniffed. "How dare you! Never underestimate the power females can have!"

Dorian blinked.

How wrong you are!" the woman continued. " I am Queen Asterin of Briarcliff, my line most likely unknown because of your father! I am rebuilding my army that was destroyed by your father's!"

This woman had just stormed past the front gates, her long auburn hair flowing past her, dressed in complete black armor, and as seeing Dorian, dragged him into some corner as a _meeting_. Out of his pride, Dorian dismissed all the guards, just to show he could take care of himself, which he seriously doubted at the moment, noting her skills as a warrior queen.

Dorian stooped a quick bow, ignoring the outrageous look on her face. After all, she was a queen, and he was prince. "My apologies. My father has done much to others without my consent. I don't know more than half of the horrendous things he's done." That much was true. Dorian knew his father kept secrets hidden.

"I am Ansel," she repeated, a slow smile on her face, absorbing each of his words. "And I have heard rumors of Celaena Sardothien being none other than Aelin Galanthyius."

Dorian kept his face poised. He didn't know if he had the upper hand, but he wasn't going to just toss out information like some lapdog. "Is that so?" he said evenly, "What brings you, the Queen of Briarcliff, seeking knowledge of some other queen, in Adarlan?"

She grinned at Dorian, something not out of happiness. "Why, I've heard she's here. I have some business to take care of that concern her."

Dorian raised his eyebrows. "Really? Here as in _here_in the Rifthold Castle?"

"Dorian, she's playing you. I've noted that around this girl's appearance, the increase of females in Rifthold has increased drastically," Aedion said, appearing, eyeing Ansel skeptically. "She's not raising an army; she already has one-one that consists of all females." Aedion's hands were at the hilt of his sword, suspicion oozing out of him.

Dorian knew that Aedion wouldn't hesitate to slit the women's throat if she posed a threat to Aelin. Aedion probably wouldn't have joined their lovely chat if Ansel probably hadn't mentioned Aelin.

Ansel grinned, raising her palms upwards. "Not here to fight any of you." She stepped towards Aedion, her head cocked to the side. "You have Celaena's eyes," she noted, "and you're Aedion Ashryver, who is related to the Galanthyius. This is proof enough. Don't tell me Celaena isn't Aelin. Where is she?"

Aedion looked down on her, while Dorian felt needles pricking his skin. Who the hell was Ansel to just barrel into his castle demanding to see Aelin/Celaena?

"Damn," Aedion said, "you're pretty observant. But I wouldn't draw conclusions too quickly when other possible scenarios could be happening. You want to see Celaena, who I'm pretty sure has beaten you more than once. Why are you here?"

Ansel remained silent, glaring at Aedion. "Don't question me," she snarled. "I am queen-"

"-of the western wastes," Aedion drawled, "Yadayadayada. Too bad I don't give a shit."

Ansel slapped Aedion, or _attempted_ to slap Aedion-his Fae reflexes were no match for the warrior queen. She ended up hitting pure air, Aedion smirking at her, a feet away from where he previously was. "Ass," Ansel hissed, her hands clenched. "Let me see her and I'll leave."

Aedion grinned at her, a taunting look on her face. "She'll see you when she's free, _Queen_." Then he walked away, disappearing between rows of bushes. What the hell?

Ansel turned towards Dorian. "Would you like to direct me to her? I'm sure Celaena can spare a few moments."

Dorian had realized that most people who went to the castle wanted to see Aelin-not him. It was a slap in the face-he was Prince of this land, while Aelin was princess of another land. Then he also realized that if he wanted people to start treating him like a King, he would have to actually become King. Which was easier said than done.

Ansel reached out to slap Dorian again, to which he quickly stepped back. In some ways, women were predictable.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"You won't find her," Dorian said, wanting to throw something at the annoying woman.

Ansel was determinedly following Dorian e_verywhere_, thinking he'd lead her to Celaena somehow. By everywhere, it also meant that she followed Dorian into the bathroom, not even bothering to look away as he used to restroom. Dorian had never felt so violated in his life.

"You cannot keep acting so childish." Ansel hissed, watching Dorian play billboards by himself. Childishly? She had followed him everywhere like some dog!

"You cannot keep acting like a stalker." He retorted, smacking the cue ball with the stick.

But deep down, Dorian knew she was right. In some ways, he was also acting childish. Yet how could he stop acting so c_hildishly_ when that meant ascending the throne, which meant responsibilities he was afraid of?

What if he turned out just like his father? What had happened to the loving man father he once knew?

.

.

.

"I will keep following you," she threatened, her hand now on her sword hilt. Sweat now gleamed across her forehead as she sat in the blazing Sun, watching Dorian attempting to read the Wyrd Symbols. He had purposefully chosen a spot that had no shade-something he was used too as sitting in the Sun was one of his dead father's frequent punishments. "So you might as well summon her." She wiped her neck with the leather in her armor, glaring daggers at Dorian.

"Summon?" Dorian barked a laugh. Did she seriously think he could just summon Celaena Sardothien? Aelin Galanthyius? Future Queen and Heir to the Terrasen throne?

"Yes," Ansel's eyes narrowed. "I'm running out of patience."

"Looks like you'll need some more patience, then." Dorian replied flippantly, flipping the page, as if he was fascinated by the book. However, Dorian's mind was racing. What did she want? Why couldn't she just stalk someone else? Well, he was prince, heir to the throne in Adarlan. The correct question was why she couldn't find Celaena herself.

"Look, believe it or not, I have good intentions." She said, squatting down. "My people-"

"-People pertains to a wide variety of humans," Dorian blurted. "Having an all-female population under your control does not fit under the description of _people_ unless some of the opposite sex is there."

His cheeks involuntarily flushed.

"On the other hand," Ansel continued, looking slightly miffed, "Celaena and I have matters that require private talk between two of us."

"Care to clue me in?" Dorian asked, not looking up from the page he really wasn't reading.

"No," she said sharply, and Dorian's gut twisted. "Look, if you want to be a good King, you have to understand there's things better off you wouldn't understand."

"And a good king wouldn't let some crazy _girl_ show up into his castle and his lands. In fact, how did you-"

"-yeah well, guess what, _King_Dorian. You haven't ascended the throne, and so many people can take it away from you. You were just a pawn for people. Perhaps you still are."

"Are you implying that you're one of those people to take the title from me?" Dorian slammed the book shut, his eyes narrowing at the queen. Gods be damned he didn't have a single weapon on him. He was exposed and vulnerable.

Ansel stood up. "Look, I have the best intentions-"

"-it seems like you and I have a different definitions of best intentions," Dorian walked towards the front gate where Chaol would be1. He could rant at Chaol for hours about his problems, even if he was zoning him out. It was better to talk to a person who wasn't listening than an inanimate object that seemed to be listening.

"That's because you don't know what my intentions are!" Ansel yelled back, hands on her hips.

"Exactly!" Dorian faced towards her, his ears ringing. "You just come here, uninvited, thinking you just rule the world! But you don't! You just complain and whine and over abuse your status just like my father did, even if he did destroy your land! You may do the same thing to someone else's, and then what?" Dorian had no idea what he was saying, but he could see the damage done in her face.

Unfortunately, the gods truly hated him today, because when he turned around, his heart stopped.

"Sorscha?" he whispered. Millions of shards of ice pointed towards his heart and he felt frozen and cold and horrible, bile rising to his throat. Images of her beheading, his father throwing her head and body into the dump. And Dorian couldn't consciously do a damn thing because the collar was then around his throat, blackness surrounding his thoughts.

The girl blinked-the only difference Dorian could see right now between the girl and Sorscha was their eye colors. "Um, she was my cousin," her tone sounded almost like a question. Gods. They had the same Fenharrow accent. And the same gods be damned golden-tanned skin. But Sorscha had said her village was destroyed…How?

Dorian realized that Choal was next to her, arms crossed. "She wanted an audience with Celaena."

"Well, I don't know her name, really." The girl said. "But she saved my life and I'm forever indebted to her."

Chaol's chin jerked towards her, eyes hesitant. "She's a healer. Just like…"

_Just like Sorscha._

Dorian ran. Ran past Ansel who was yelling curses at him, demanding to see Celaena. Ran past Chaol's voice asking him what to do and where the Wyrd he was going.

Of course the girl wanted an audience with Celaena. No one bothered to approach him nowadays.

He ran to his father's chambers because he wasn't just some Prince to live in fear now. He wasn't going to be like his father.

He was the Crown Prince. The Fae was right-he was used to others protecting him, others to serve him. He was a failure, and he needed that to change. If he were to rise to the throne…

He needed to know the truth and horrors. Dorian slowed as he reached his father's chambers. There he would find answers.

Dorian took a deep breath and pushed open the door. He was going to be the King of Adarlan and god damn all the others who were going to stop him.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Chaol's POV

"Have I offended him?" the girl muttered, timid.

Chaol wanted to shake her by the shoulders to stop acting like a mouse surrounded by predators.

"No," the other girl said, who was just cursed every single curse at Dorian. Choal didn't like her aura of power and authority she swaggered around with, and he especially didn't like that after just seeing her with Dorian, Dorian had lost her cool. "I think I did, but it's fine-he needs to man up and-" the woman continued.

Chaol drew his sword from his hilt and held it at her throat. "You need to state your business for coming here unannounced. I've heard that you've brought an army and-"

"No shit." The queen said, and quickly bolted in the other direction, then hollered in the other direction, "I'm a queen you douche!"

Chaol immediately chased after her, but then stopped to look for the other girl.

Well, damn. She was also gone.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Dorian's POV

Books and more books.

That was his first impression of his father's room. After that came the chilling, dark sensation that he was being watched.

He walked towards the table where stashes of paper were thrown all over the desk. One piece of paper, in a different handwriting than all the rest caught his eye. "_Wyrevens have riders. To call? Manon Blackbeak._

Dorian frowned. The writing was far from the norm of his father's handwriting: short, thin, consice letters. The writing here was average height and in slight cursive at every loop. Who was the Wyvren? And Manon Blackbeak? It would be safe to assume that they were his father's allies, or potential successors to the throne he didn't know about.

Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. From now one he would investigate his father's room a little bit each day. Once he called some of the loyal guards over and told them to keep the room under lock and key-no visitors except him-, he left.

"Um, Dorian?" a voice mumbled out of the corridors.

Dorian's heart rate picked up as he saw Sorscha's _cousin. _"What?" he snapped irratibly. He couldn't stand it, seeing the similarities between her and Sorscha. Her presence felt odd-he had seen Sorscha die.

She visibly flinched and Dorian felt his heart twist. "Once you reclaim your throne, I would like to, um, request a position as some part as your medical staff."

Dorian narrowed his eyes. She had the outlook of a shy, weak girl, when her request was blunt. But he had to make it up for Sorchsa, who thought that her entire family was dead.

"What's your name?" he asked, debating whether he should agree or not. How could she think he could easily ascend the throne when the ambition of those who wanted the throne was greater than his? He was already stressed out and he wasn't even King.

"Yrene Towers," she offered a slight smile.

Dorian nodded his head once. "I'll think about it." Then he walked away.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Aelin's POV

"What?" she groaned irritably, stretching her arms. She'd requested a day from her 'royal duties' to train (it was the only way she could really let go of her anger and stress in a physical way that didn't include pissing someone off) and Dorian had barged into the training room just to discuss 'royal duties'.

"What the hell, woman?" he screeched, looking at the damage done.

She snorted in response; she had tried to inflict the least minimal amount of damage, but today she didn't feel like keeping in control, so…

"Why the hell is the ceiling burnt with a hole in the center?" he cried. "Where are the funds going to come from to repair this? I'm not going to have slaves, by the gods, repair everything like my father made them-so don't take advantage of that situation anymore."

Aelin blinked. Well, she certainly wasn't expecting that. "There was nowhere else to go without people looking at me like I'm some exotic species."

Dorian's face was unfathomable as he said quietly, "Then go to Terrasen."

Aelin blinked and took a step back. What the hell?

"I find it insulting you would ask me to be in your court." Dorian said, his jaw flickering. "When I'm Crown Prince-and you're in my lands. And then you have a masquerade in your name in _my _land. Again, you're taking advantage of just being here in Adarlan."

Aelin felt, rather than saw, some coldness sweep throughout the room.

"Who are you to just act like you rule Adarlan when you haven't even ruled Terrasen yet?" he added, frost covering the ornate linings of the wall. "So during your masquerade-count yourself lucky I haven't cancelled it-you will do whatever means so help me ascend the throne. You have a lot of enemies here that view you as hostile foreigners. Clear?"

Aelin dug her nails into her palm. Dorian was becoming unstable and she didn't know what to do. But she did, however know someone. She would rather have Dorian up on the throne who had good intentions that another version of his father.

"Perfectly clear," she said, just to spite him.

Dorian stalked out of the room, the ice still remaining on the walls.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Aelin sighed in content as she wrapped the fluffy, white robe around her body. Her hair dripped from the recent shower, dropping onto some of the papers she was assorting. Rowan was usually here by this time, and she wanted to discuss leaving Adarlan as soon as possible after Dorian came about the throne.

_Where are you?_ She called within her mind. It took a lot of energy and practice to be able to mindspeak between each other-a bond and feat she had no idea what meant. Most people who were bonded or _carranam _could mind speak within distances they could see each other. She asked Rowan what it meant for them, but he had merely shrugged, saying Maeve could also mindspeak with him from great distances. She had felt immediately disappointed-it didn't meant anything special about their relationship. She had hoped it meant that they were more than c_arranam._

_I have disturbing news._ He answered. Classic Rowan always going straight to business.

_Such as…? _She ventured. _No hello?_

_Arobynn Hamel may want to ascend the throne according to Duke Perrington. I think he also bribed Roland Haalivard into the situation to have a larger force._

Aelin had to resist the urge to laugh. Arobynn? He was the type of person who like being in a high position, but not too high to have so many enemies, and not to average to have people listen to him. Arobynn would never take the throne-he wouldn't be able to continue his practice of teaching assassins in the first place. He wouldn't be able to continue the slave trade and other dark events he planned. He just wasn't the person to be King.

_I think you've got the wrong person._

_No, I know what I'm talking about_. He sounded miffed, as if his ego was kicked down a notched.

_It's just a ruse, Rowan. The end. Something bigger is probably happening._

_Aelin-the Duke wants Arobynn up on the throne-he even said it!and-_

_Rowan. I know Arobynn. He-_

_You're not listening to me! Arobynn-_

_They're bluffing, Rowan!_

_Gah! Aelin, they just left the meeting room you had me discuss with them. They said Arobynn!_

_They're playing you Rowan. They're using the fact that you don't know anyone from here to their advantage._

_Aelin! _he protested.

Aelin abruptly ended the mindspeak and went back to organizing the papers, a turmoil now in her stomach. A gut feeling told her something big was about to happen-something she wouldn't like at all.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Chaol's POV

"Where in hell is Ren?" he growled, searching through the sea of people that had just arrived, each holding the invitation that granted them entrance.

Dorian shrugged, rubbing his forehead tiredly. He had went to Chaol's room last night to discuss the priorities to be done so he could ascend the throne. "Last time I saw him was in the kitchen two days ago for taste testing. I haven't seen him since." Dorian's voice was flat, as if a vacuum had sucked the life out of him.

Chaol raised a concerned eyebrow, but didn't press the matter. Dorian would bring up the subject if he wanted to talk about it. Chaol had a nagging feeling it was about the presence of Yrene Towers, who looked similar to Sorscha. They had a slight Fenharrow accent and same skin color. Their eyes were what set them apart and it was hard to wrap his head around the fact that she looked exactly like a dead person.

Chaol shuffled through more papers that had Dorian's signature on them. "I'll give these to the remaining council, but in the end, I think you should make your own to show your independence," he advised.

Dorian barked a laugh. "Should I ask Aelin if she wants to be in my court? Just like she asked me if I wanted to be in her court?"

Chaol's brows furrowed. Something was definitely up. "What's the matter?" he asked gently.

"Stop that!" Dorian threw his hands up in the air, then lowered them. "Stop treating me like some kicked puppy. Is that how you would treat a King?"

"No," he replied slowly, meeting Dorian's eyes. "It's how I treat a friend."

Dorian slumped against his seat. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "There's just a lot going on for me now."

If Dorian wanted to be treated like a King, Chaol would give it to him. "There's a lot going for us all, Dorian." He said firmly. "Don't make excuses. Just take a good nap and in the morning, I'll ask the other fellow guards of their loyalty and support to you. I'm your friend Dorian. Don't forget it."

Dorian stood up from the chair, his mouth in a hard line. When he looked at Chaol, he smiled slightly. "Thank you. For everything." Then he left.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Arobynn tells Ren he wants to be in Aelin's Court. The Duke and Roland want Arobynn up on the throne. What is happening? You'll see in the upcoming chapters XD. By the way, Arobynn only told Ren that he wanted to be in Aelin's Court. No one else except Ren knows about that.**

**Sorry for the late update; my running schedule has really caught up with me. I have a tack meet tomorrow versus the school that has the winning streak (Chino Hills) and they're extremely good. And it's going to be sooooo hot tomorrow, joy (sarcasm).**

**Dorian's been acting up! He's getting some experience of the world his father had to deal with and we'll figure out how he takes it...**

Preview of the Next Chapter: "Aelin, why are you only wearing a towel?"

Aelin smirked, feeling waves of something Rowan never had shown before radiate off of him. "It's hot," she replied simply.

"Hot?" he demanded. "Wear a dress or something."


	5. Author's Note

To the readers who all expected another chapter...I'm sorry.

Life has been, rough, to put it lightly. Writing has been pushed to the side.

But I'm willing to change that. In fact, I'm looking for a beta for any of my stories. But as a warning, I'm pretty much going to flat out say it won't be easy because I won't be able to write often and am very picky about what I publish. So it may be a pain. And it may take even years toñ get through like my absence.

So if that hasn't dissuaded you, just PM about yourself, and which story you'd like for us to work on together. You don't have to worry about my lack of writing abilities like atrophy. One of the reasons for my inactiveness is that I'm composing my own original novel, but I semi-needed a breather from that (hence fanfiction).

Thank you to all the readers who continued to reviewed and PM me with words of encouragement. I haven't lost my ideas and voices in the fanfictions. Like I said on each of my stories, I plan on finishing them all, even if I'm a sixty-year old surrounded by cats. Having a beta will force myself to expedite the process.

~Liz


End file.
